


My Grown-Up Christmas List

by cerie



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Original Character - Freeform, Presents, single mother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 01:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/pseuds/cerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’d better get your beard on. We have to get a Santa sighting for Charlotte,” MacKenzie reminds him, hefting her camera. Will rolls his eyes and puts on the fake beard, letting MacKenzie get a few blurry, insubstantial shots of him with a Santa suit (and a pillow shoved under it, thanks) putting presents under the tree and munching on cookies. It’s a little silly but Charlotte’s parents are journalists. It would just be unbelievable if they didn’t get some evidence of Santa Claus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Grown-Up Christmas List

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Callie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callie/gifts).
  * Inspired by [And Life Makes Love Look Hard](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028989) by [cerie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/pseuds/cerie). 



> A companion piece to [And Life Makes Love Look Hard](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1028989), set some time in the future. Merry Christmas!

“Is that the last of it?” MacKenzie looks up from putting the finishing touches on Charlotte’s bike and assesses the spread. Every toy a little girl of eight could want and then some are piled beneath the big Christmas tree in their brownstone and the cat is winding her way through them, little tail flicking like a question mark above the sea of presents. Will reaches for the plate of cookies and starts eating them, pressing the celery and carrots for the reindeer off on MacKenzie. Well, _of course_.

“I think so,” he says around a mouthful of cookie. “Did Clarissa do these? They’re good. Not that...you’re not an excellent baker, Mrs. McAvoy.” MacKenzie arches a brow at him but since it’s Christmas, she decides to be charitable. They are Clarissa’s work but Charlotte “helped” and she was damned proud of her job in decorating the cookies. They’re a little haphazard and not the prettiest but they taste amazing and it’s obvious they were made with a great deal of love. 

“You’d better get your beard on. We have to get a Santa sighting for Charlotte,” MacKenzie reminds him, hefting her camera. Will rolls his eyes and puts on the fake beard, letting MacKenzie get a few blurry, insubstantial shots of him with a Santa suit (and a pillow shoved under it, thanks) putting presents under the tree and munching on cookies. It’s a little silly but Charlotte’s parents are journalists. It would just be unbelievable if they didn’t get some evidence of Santa Claus.

MacKenzie helps tug Will to his feet and they linger in the doorway, giggling lightly when they realize there’s mistletoe above their heads. They don’t really need an excuse to kiss but the mistletoe provides a readily handy one. MacKenzie cups his cheeks and leans in for a soft, tender kiss, surprised when Will deepens it a little and slides his hands down her back and dangerously, dangerously close to her ass. That’s a little obscene for _Santa_ but she guesses they have enough privacy at the moment. 

Neither of them hear a little gasp or the shuffle of tiny feet across the floor.

***

MacKenzie wakes up around 5:00 AM with Charlotte bouncing up and down on hers and Will’s bed, curls going every which way. She’s about to say something when Will grumbles, “Whoa, kid, slow down,” and MacKenzie groans and covers her head with a pillow. It’s entirely too early for this nonsense and she wonders if she just ignores it, it will all go away.

“Hey, Kid, let’s go make Mum some coffee before we start bouncing on her head. If you help me make coffee, I’ll let you open one present,” Will says and Charlotte squeals, tearing out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Will leans over and lifts the pillow a little to press a kiss against MacKenzie’s cheek. “I think I bought you some time,” he murmurs, stubble scraping against her skin. “But we’re going to be back when the coffee’s done and you’re going to have to get up. You’re probably going to want to get your panties back on too. Just saying.” 

MacKenzie doesn’t have the energy to really swat him but she does a half-ass job of it and once he’s out of the room, she reaches blindly for her panties where they wound up on the floor after present-laying and slides them back on. By the time Charlotte’s back with a mug of coffee, she’s managed the upright position. That’s about all anyone can ask of her before the sun comes up, really.

She sips at the coffee and sighs, letting the warmth and caffeine course through her veins and suffuse her with warmth. Damn, there’s nothing better than a cup of coffee on an icy cold morning, especially when her daughter and husband are piled up in bed next to her. Will has his own mug and MacKenzie is sorely tempted to steal it for a moment before she remembers he has cream and no sugar; that should be outlawed, really. 

When she finally feels something approaching human, she crawls out of bed and settles on the couch so she has a perfect vantage point to watch Charlotte attack her pile of presents. Will lights the fire before he gets down in the floor to help unwrap them, his smile growing bigger and bigger as Charlotte oohs and ahhs and squeals over her presents. MacKenzie has a few herself: a soft, cashmere scarf and a beautiful pair of diamond earrings that appear to be worth the GDP of some small countries. She gives Will a shaving kit and a fine bottle of scotch, something he reverently carries over to the bar and looks at fondly for a moment before he settles back down in the floor with Charlotte.

“Charlotte? Go get Billy’s present,” MacKenzie says, prompting Charlotte to tear off to her room and get something she’s been keeping secret for several weeks, which is approximately a thousand years for a young child. She hands it over to Will and instructs, none too kindly, that he has to read her letter _first_.

The letter’s written in childish script on a long, gold envelope:

> Billy,
> 
> I love you. I know you aren’t my _father_ , that’s Brian Brenner, but you’re my Daddy. I know you’re really a stepdaddy. Mummy told me that there’s a way I can be a McAvoy too and not a McHale so for Christmas all I want is just to be your _real_ daughter.
> 
> She says you have to sign this stuff. Don’t smudge it. We can’t get more.
> 
> Love Charlotte.

Will’s brow arches and he pulls out a thick sheaf of legal documents - adoption documents. The look on his face is indescribable. It’s equal parts joy and overwhelmed and he crushes Charlotte to him in a hug; MacKenzie can tell that he’s trying to hide the fact that he’s crying but there’s no mistaking how rough his voice is when he pulls away and his eyes are just a bit misty. It’s all right. It’s not every day someone gets asked to be something so important for someone he loves.

Later that morning, Charlotte is dozing in a pile of wrapping paper and bows, her hands clutched around her newest doll, and she and Will are curled up on the couch listening to an old Bing Crosby record (an actual LP, because Will still has a record player.) His hand is toying with her hair and MacKenzie cannot recall a morning when she’s ever felt quite so content with the world. 

This is the best Christmas present of all.


End file.
